Writing Prompt - Life is a Competition
by chaosfay
Summary: Warden stamina is the stuff of legends, and Alistair proves it to Amell. He plays her better than any bard could play their instrument or sing.


Though it was cold outside her tent was always warm. It was something Alistair had come to appreciate. Her body always felt warm, like a small fire. On nights such as this that heat meant so much more than just warmth.

They'd been walking through rain all day, soaked to the bone and shivering. As usual their companions took turns walking next to her. Steam rose off Jasmine's body nearly the entire day as she used magic to keep herself from getting too wet. Zevran complained the loudest, not being used to the bitter weather Fereldans were proud to endure. He made the sad mistake of mentioning everyone smelled like wet dogs. Jasmine wouldn't let him near enough to benefit from her body heat. Alistair, Sten, and Oghren had the benefit of metal armor keeping them dry and holding in their body heat. Morrigan simply rolled her eyes when anyone complained.

Jasmine happily took first watch, tired of nearly everyone clustering to get close to her all day. Alistair took watch with her, the rain not bothering him at all. He'd dealt with worse in less armor growing up; this was hardly worth noting. What he had notice, though, was Jasmine using a lyrium potion at least once every hour. The magic had been draining her mana all day as she did her best to bring comfort to everyone. She looked drained, but kept her head up, eyes open, and shoulders back. On watch she didn't bother with the magic. Now she could let her mana build up.

Two hours later Morrigan took over with Zevran, sending the two lovers to the tent they shared.

Alistair helped her out of her wet clothes, noting she didn't so much as even shiver. At the same time she helped him get his armor off, taking note of how dry he was beneath it. They lay down on their raised bedroll now, Alistair having been mindful enough to set it up as such. The oiled canvas tent remained dry, but no fire warmed the camp tonight. The wet was too wet. He had Jasmine, though, and that was fire enough.

The tent was dark, warm, calm, the rain running down the waterproofed canvas creating a quiet symphony. Jasmine rolled onto her stomach, arms beneath her head, and looked to be falling asleep. Having been unable to spend much time walking beside her, let alone touch her, Alistair was having none of that.

He started kissing her shoulder, his kisses soft, quiet, lingering. She smelled of moss, wood smoke, and ozone, an intoxicating mix he knew he would never tire of. His mouth slowly move across her shoulder to her spine, more open-mouthed now as he moved down at a leisurely pace. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, and shifted down, one calloused hand moving feather-light down her side, just close enough she could feel the presence, but not enough to fully touch her skin. He continued his ministrations, his tongue joining in with the kissing.

She stirred, a pleasant moan mixed with his name, just above a whisper. Alistair could hear the smile, and knew she could feel his. She shifted ever-so-slightly, but made no effort to move. He kissed the dip in her back, his hands now on either side of her. The heat coming off her increased as he scraped his teeth along her skin, applying just enough pressure to leave light marks that would be gone by morning. Lower he moved, his hands on her rump, massaging, gripping, enjoying the feel of her. His mouth moved over one cheek, biting firmly enough to make her jump.

Sitting back now, with her between his legs, he ran his hands up her body, more firmly now, feeling the increasing heat. His mouth followed his hands, nipping more, teasing her, making her squirm with the soft pleasure. He inched closer to her shoulders, taking his time. Jasmine's breath was coming faster, her skin more sensitive, her sighs turning into moans. He smiled, knowing full well what this was doing to her. Resting his weight on his knees he lifted her hips up just enough to slip a hand beneath her and the bedroll. His fingers moved over the soft curls between her legs, exploring her folds, separating them just enough to rub over her sensitive pearl.

Her body shook beneath him, her moaning including quiet whispers of his name. He kisses didn't stop, nor did his fingers. She ground against his hand, asking for more, for something else, but kept herself as quiet as possible. He slipped a finger inside her, finding her slick with want and need. A quiet pride gripped him, knowing he could do this to her, that she wanted him. He crooked his finger just so, and heard her turn her face against her arms as a louder moan escaped. Her hips moved as if on their own, and he smiled as he bit gently into the soft flesh of her shoulder, following with kisses as he traveled closer to her neck.

A second finger entered her, and she bucked against him. Her breathing came harder, faster, his name quietly filling the tent. The sounds she made were as music to his ears. He made no effort to stop or slow down, pushing her further. It quickly became hotter, her face buried firmly in her arms as she did her best not to cry out. Closer, she was getting closer. He found the spot on her neck, that place that made her melt, and melt she would. His fingers moved faster now as he raked his teeth against her skin. A burst of heat filled the tent as Jasmine clamped around his hand and fingers, crying out her pleasure into her arms and bedroll. Her entire body shook now, but he didn't let up until she was nearly limp. Pulling his hand out from beneath her he sucked on his fingers, close enough to her ears she could hear his own moans of pleasure, tasting her.

Her breathing slowed, her body covered in sweat and shaking beneath him. Alistair was far from done. He would have her over the edge again, and all things considered that would take long at all. Hardly enough time to recover he lifted her hips up, a leg on either side of her. Her slickness made it all the more intense as he slipped inside her, holding between his hands as he slowly entered. Keeping it slow, he pushed only halfway in, then nearly out, repeating this until she could take the full length of him. Jasmine did her best to keep her voice down, but was slowly coming undone. This angle hit everything. Everything. He moved at a torturously slow pace, rocking his hips at just the right angle, rotating slightly as he moved out. He made to move with him, but his grip was firm. She would do no work this night save for doing her best to keep quiet, though likely to fail as was his goal.

He couldn't see anything she was doing, but he could certainly hear her. She shook beneath him, every stroke bringing her closer. She bit into her hands, desperately trying not to beg, to make no sounds. The whimpers, moans, sighs, and there it was, his name. It took all his training and discipline to keep at this pace, to stay in control.

His name tore from her chest through her throat and into the bedroll, barely muffled. She shook beneath him, the heat coming off her intensifying. Sweat dripped over his body, running down his face, his arms, his back. She tightened and pulsed around him, eliciting a deep groan from him. He clamped his mouth shut, keeping quiet as he could, his control tested well and hard now.

Alistair still wasn't done with her, not yet. At least once more he would make her climax and test her own self control. No lightning or fire yet, but he had to see if she could keep control over her magic when the third wave hit her.

He pulled out and turned Jasmine over onto her back. Her body was nearly dead weight, making him chuckle. He was the bard tonight, and he played his song well. She could hard move, and ever touch was too much. Jasmine's skin was drenched with sweat, the smell of sex heavy in the air now. Placing a leg on either side of his hips he slipped insider her again. He rested his weight on his arms now, mouth over hers, and rocked his hips against hers. She could barely move now, and that only encouraged him. He pulled her closer to him, enjoying every step of this dance, every note of the song. With nothing but him to muffle the noises she made Jasmine buried her face into his neck, her arms wrapped around him.

Harder thrusts now, he buried himself inside her. Each thrust brought a whimper from her, and he wanted more. One arm snaked beneath the arch of her back, lifting her up just enough, just enough, and yes, there. That's her spot, and he hit it firmly. Oh, his name sounded beautifully when it came from her like that. Her nails were in his back, holding her in this world and he pushed her over into the next. Faster now, she begged him, faster. Harder. There, right there, don't stop. Don't stop. Yes, yes, don't stop, whatever you do don't stop. So much, all of it, give it all. Harder. Faster, faster, faster!

She arched hard, legs squeezing around hard enough he may have bruises there come morning. Her teeth sank into his shoulder as her body shuddered beneath him, screaming into his flesh. No stopping, not now, keep going.

Faster, she's there, right there, yes. Keep her there, don't stop Don't stop. Faster, faster faster, there, oh yes, there,.

She couldn't speak, and remained on that high, the waves hitting her over and over and over. Just when she thought the climax was done she was up again, He'd keep her there, make her beg for more. Jasmine begged. Please, please, please, yes, please! Her control was nearly undone now, and bit deeper into his shoulder. Her nails raked down his back, the sting of sweat entering wounds his only indication of broken flesh.

He growled and pulled away from her, sitting back as he grabbed her hips firmly, slick with sweat, and pounded into her. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled his ears. Her hands were over her mouth, muffling as best she could.

Alistair was close now. His fingers dug into her flesh, hard, as he picked up the pace. The rhythm was lost now, his thrust erratic, and then he came undone. He thrust deep and spilled himself inside her, shaking with the release. He ground his teeth together, not wanting to be the one who lost control.

His body shook as he separated from her. With great care he lay beside her, now certain his shoulder and back were bleeding. He didn't care; just battle wounds. He pulled the blanket over them, and took Jasmine into his arms. She trembled, her breathing barely controlled. He felt a cool wave pass over him before she went completely limp in his arms, asleep. The stinging on his back and shoulder were gone now. He couldn't see her, but it didn't matter. He knew she was smiling, possibly as much as him, and both would of them would sleep well tonight.


End file.
